


particle physics

by SallySalisbury



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 20:39:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9288728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SallySalisbury/pseuds/SallySalisbury
Summary: In the aftermath of Rowan, Abby and Erin exorcise the ghosts from their past.





	

“I hated you,” Abby’s words seem so easy, grim but determined, and Erin supposes they are. Truth was always Abby’s forte. “For almost twenty years, it’s just--- You were  _ here _ , in my thoughts, but you weren’t  **here** .” Erin knows she deserves that hate, knows she abandoned Abby and, though there were reasons (she’s always got reasons, she’s got reasons enough to fill a vortex but there had been reasons to stay too), it was a selfish act. 

 

She doesn’t turn around but she stops in her tracks, a marker in her hand and knuckles white, the lid pressed between her teeth, already chewed beyond belief. Neatly written equations fill the whiteboard in front of her but all she can focus on is Abby behind her.

 

“But I loved you too.” Abby continues in the face of her silence. When Erin was young, she didn’t think anything could hurt more than hate but she was older now and knew love could. Those words felt like an insurmountable weight pressing against all of her bones. Can you love and hate someone at the same time? 

 

After she ran, she pretended that Abby didn’t care. That, just like for everyone else, Erin was a meaningless blip in Abby’s otherwise fulfilling life. She never once googled Abby; didn’t want to know what she was actually doing preferring instead to imagine elaborate fantasies where Abby was happy and successful and said things like  _ “Erin who?” _ or  _ “Was she the girl who saw a ghost?” _

 

It eased her guilt. If the friendship meant nothing to Abby, Erin couldn’t be blamed for causing it to fall apart.

 

When she confronted Abby at Higgins, she thought she’d willed that fantasy into reality, that all those years of silence had turned to loathing but she knew Abby still, could tell when there was real pain beneath the bravado and fart jokes. Erin had run from a lot of things when she stood Abby up at that interview and she'd been running from the consequences ever since. And there, in a haphazard laboratory doing what Erin had always dreamed of, was the biggest consequence of all, Abby without her; sad eyed but still overwhelmingly strong.

 

She breathes, aiming for slow and steady but she’s sure the harsh rasp of air filling her lungs is the only sound in the room. She wants to ask  _ why now?  _ The past tense hangs heavy, so she says nothing at all. 

 

“Still do, actually.” Abby sounds smaller further away.  _ Okay, _ Erin thinks, putting the lid back on the pen,  _ this is it. _

 

Abby is action, motion, she sees problems and she solves them, Abby is  _ applied _ . 

 

And Erin?

 

Erin is theoretical. She’s exponential equations getting out of control, she’s the fibonacci sequence spiralling on and on, she’s string theory and all the numbers of the universe pressed underneath a woman’s skin.

 

Erin sees a problem and then she sees outcomes, hundreds and thousands of them, and the magnitude of the possibilities means nothing feels solved. Things---this, she thinks,  _ this  _ thing between them---seem so possible, it’s impossible. 

 

In other universes there are other Erins; an Erin who never saw her mean old neighbour’s ghost or an Erin who doesn’t care what people think, an Erin who is normal, who has tenure, who isn’t plagued by anxiety or neurosis. And there are infinite Abbys; loyal, brave Abbys who are present and proud and so beautifully real that every Erin is drawn to them, loves them and acts in a way deserving of them.

 

Every Erin except this one. 

 

But that was the before Rowan, this is after Rowan. She's different: her hair is too red regardless of how many dyes she uses and she’s thrown away all her tweed. She's trying: to speak rather than run, to say what she wants. 

 

“I'm sorry,” Erin starts as she turns and she catches Abby’s expression as it breaks, “No!” That makes it worse. “I mean…” Urgh! “Shoot.”  _ Shit.  _

 

A pause. Abby remains crestfallen.

 

“Abby,” Saying her name anchors Erin, she takes a step forward, reaches out and takes Abby’s hands in her own. Touching her had always been easy. “I'm sorry.” She's never meant anything more in her life. 

 

“Erin,” Abby returns, fast and with a little exasperation creeping around the corners; they've been here, they've done this. “You jump--”

 

“I know.” She jumped into a portal, she saved Abby, they saved New York City, she is forgiven for her former trespasses. “I did it for you, you are the only person who makes me brave and I want---” She threads their fingers together, palm to palm. There's a light in Abby’s eyes but a slight cease of uncertainty remains on her brow. Erin continues, fighting an urge to smooth the line she's caused away with her thumb. “I want you to understand that I'm not just sorry that I left, I'm sorry for everything we missed and didn't have inbetween.” Their breathing slips into rhythm with each other and it makes Erin bold, fills her with a pride like nothing else.

 

Abby loves her, she’s here, they’re together. Whatever comes next they’ll be alright. 

 

They’re ghostbusters.

 

She bites her lip but still her smile breaks free. Abby smiles too and it looks like trust and acceptance and adoration. It looks like home.

  
“I love you too.” And the simple truth of those words unburdens them both.  _ Finally _ .

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing for this fandom, I just love these dummies.


End file.
